#just Sari visiting a dead guy in the land of dreaming

[witchysolfan]

Sari calling Optimus “Uncle Oppy” when she visits the land of dreaming and encounters him there. The dead leader that now rests in peace.

The first time Sari came, she sensed she may disrupt his dreaming with her presence and started to leave but a voice called out to her. Red met blue and a soft, inviting smile beckons her to come closer. The girl coming over and is greeted by the dreamer.

“Your dreams are beautiful…” she told him, keeping eye contact. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“It’s of no consequence young one.” The gentle voice was deep and kind. Sari knew he would tell great bed time stories like her Papa used to do. “You wouldn’t have come here if you weren’t invited.”

The little girl quirked her head.

“This is my dream. I can welcome or deny entry to anyone here. I sensed you near, and I decided to let you in.” An old sadness enters his optics. Though at peace in death’s embrace, he still feels for others. He still holds on to his compassion in comforting others, especially the young.

“You have been through much, Sari.”

Sari swallowed thickly.

“Have you told your Dad how much you truly hurt inside?”

She shook her head.

“I’m…a big kid…I don’t…need to worry him.” She was careful in blanking her face. Hiding away deep inside, not thinking of how she feels.

If she feels too much, her powers start to react.

If she feels too strongly, she will ruin things and scare people. It’s fun sometimes to scare people but….not like…that. Not the way she scared her Dad.

She bowed her head.

Optimus reached up one finger to slowly lift her chin up to look at him.

“It’s alright, Sari. Your Dad loves you.” There was something on his face that flickered. An old sorrow, a relief, a grief of so much loss, an acceptance of how things are now. “Your Dad….has come far in doing the best for you. He will understand.”

Sari began to speak, saying her Dad did not have these dark thoughts. These ugly feelings of wanting to rage, give into burning anger of perceived injustice, to revel in frightened faces she saw as evil and make so many pay for what they have done. To her. To Papa. To Dad. To everyone she loves.

There was great rage in Sari as much as there was great fear and hurt.

It was frightening.

It was ugly.

It was violet.

Burning, terrible, violet.

“He understands. This rage is familiar to him….he knows it.”

Red eyes widened up at him.

“Please, talk to your Dad. He will understand you more than anyone.” He let go of her chin and slowly curled his hand around her, his thumb pressed softly to her head. “It is alright to cry.”

Something broke inside and the rivers flooded with the growing cries of a little girl struggling with herself. Clinging to the thumb and hiccuped in her crying.

Optimus silently let her vent in hand as the field of flowers from earth surrounded them.

It will take Sari a bit longer to come to her Dad about her emotions and black rage she struggles with, but she has the dreamer to help her with each visit until then.

Optimus smiled at calling him “Uncle Oppy” the first time. The flower crown she made resting on his head.

If her silly stories on the shenanigans that goes on the Lost Light caused much amusement to the dreamer, then perhaps it is worth having his dreams interrupted by her visits. Even though she never visited too many times and never stays for long, a thoughtful gesture from the child who knew how much her ‘Uncle Oppy’ valued this peaceful rest, Optimus had come to look forward to seeing the child. Wondering what stories she will bring next time.

[twistednuns]

August 2019

India // It’s incredibly hard to sum up my feelings about India and Nepal. It was a truly incredible trip. And so exhausting. It was enriching, interesting, hard, disgusting, educational, everything. This is not the place to talk about my experience at length so I’ll just write down some nice moments I collected along the way //   

on the go // the huge corner toilet at MUC airport departures / Rischart coffee / the smell of the Emirates airline NOIR lotion they offer in their bathrooms / cherry-flavoured Skittles //    Delhi // brightly painted buses and tuk-tuks / eating at AB veg restaurant in Hauz Khas, inredibly delicious and cheap / being lucky enough to choose the hostel in Hauz Khas village; meeting Dominique, Christie, Ayush, Samar and Julia / all those talks we had about linguistics, education systems, the future, politics, travelling, home, friends, experiences with magic mushrooms, Hannah Arendt, travelling (…); talking to Christy about her past, family, criminal record / Mosambi juice / Nici constantly flirting with me, trying to seduce me. She told me I’m posh, assertive, regal and I know myself very well. Making out with her was fun but honestly… not worth the drama. / Mosambi juice / a consultation with a renowned Ayurveda doctor - I loved talking to her even though she wasn’t able to tell me anything I hadn’t known already; sometimes it’s nice to get the confirmation that what you found out on your own is exactly the right thing / eating momos and Kathi rolls, the best Thalis / parties on the rooftop until the sunrise interrupted us; grilling whole fish, saying goodbye to Julia, singing along to Louise Attaque and Cher songs / riding rickshaws through Delhi; extra fun: squeezing 5 people in and listening to club music / the sheets smelling chalky with a hint of grape sugar / dancing at Raasta / petting cute street doggies / a cooking class with Mansi and her family in North Delhi - delicious food and really nice people, I fell in love with the mum / eating at Social (that building is just amazing) and strolling through the little alleys and stores at Hauz Khas village with Christie; she showed me the place where she got her linnen dresses and we talked to a jewellery store owner for quite a while / the spice market, climbing up a building and watching the men flying their kites, tasting some street food and spices, realiszing that there is a market street dedicated to a single group of things like the shoe market, the jewellery market etc. / the Brit Brats sharing their joints; tripping to Bayonne / the hidden merchant streets with colourful wall art around the entrances / PANEER (!) / stand-up comedy with a female comedian / elevator selfies / learning about the development of Indian scripts and letters/characters in Sanskrit in the National Museum; erotic sculptures, very detailed paintings depicting badass, tiger-hunting ladies / I saw a peacock. Cows, chipmunks, pigs, horses, monkeys, goats, guinea pigs, bunnies, cats and dogs, bats, herons, boars, caterpillars, centipedes, horses, donkeys (…) / finding the perfect triangular earrings with gemstones at the Dilli Haat market; getting some nice dresses, too / living on water and mango juice, feeling very light and clean, having an empty stomach all the time / Gandhi Smriti, retracing Mahatma’s last steps before his assassination / feeling human again after a few days in bed - I love the power of make-up, bananas, fresh clothes and those pink little Pepto-Bismol pills the Canadian lady gave me / Delhi central station; just WOW. It’s places like that which make you realise just how many people there are in India. //   

Rishikesh // the man helping me with the bus to Rishikesh; the kindness of strangers / “I thank the Lord for the people I have found” (Elton John - Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters) / emotional bus rides: crying for no reason, letting go, for the first time in a very long time; emotional turmoil, softening up; leaving people and whole countries behind / seeing the huge Shiva ceremony at the Ganges from the bus / my yoga teacher training, getting to know the other students / learning about a magic trick against bad posture / instant karma / the view from the rooftop, watching the sunrise over the lower Himalaya mountains / the simple, vega, ayurvedic food they offered at the ashram / visiting the temples with the apprentice yogi and his scooter; walking up 13 stories in the blazing sun, receiving a blessing and some red string around my wrist; taking part in the Ganga ceremony at sunset / the Beatles Ashram; it’s just this amazing place with incredible street art, and those ruins, the meditation caves and eggs on the rooftop… climbing up there was one of my highlights in Rishikesh / close second: visiting a meditation cave at the Ganges, a bit further up in the mountains; a monk had spent 15 years in that cave practising meditation / all the beautiful shops around town focussing on yoga accessoires / putting my feet in the Ganges #blessed #moksha / learning about my aggression during silent yoga / all the animals around town: horses, donkeys, cows, monkeys and whatnot //   

Varanasi // taking the night train for the first time; I shared my little compartment with a family and three little children but they were surprisingly dramafree and actually quite cute / a sunset boat trip on the Ganges, seeing the ghats, the ceremonies, the moon rise / the little alleys behind the ghats; the stores, the surprises / Marnikarnika Ghat was really impressive; it’s the cremation place and I saw dead bodies for the first time / accidentally discovering the Dirty Chai Cafe (chocolate peanut butter shakes and fresh, cold mint lemonade), finding a Kamala Das poetry book on the shelf / spending an afternoon with the German journalist (so weird how the atmosphere shifts when you’re accompanied by a man there; also our dynamic made me feel so glad to be travelling alone, to only be responsible for myself, to be independent); sharing a banana and water surrounded by goats in Hanuman Ghat; the view over the river from his room; him gently stroking my cheekbone / buying two saris in a little corner shop / my jewellery quest (unsuccessful) / eating fresh fruit salad after hardly eating solid food for days / checking out that little park on my last day, the air buzzing with dragonflies / watching the sunset from the hostel’s rooftop, filming a slow motion video / India brings out trauma and deep emotions; the people kept staring at me for whatever reason; I kept having disturbing dreams about my dead father and grandmother; and the mob-video Christy showed me didn’t help either (the whole village carried a man through the streets, eventually beating him up because he couldn’t pay off his debts) //   

Nepal // the first view of Nepal from the bus windows - how much greener, how much emptier it is than India / meeting some nice people on the bus - an American, a Brit and two Frenchies; grabbing dinner in Kathmandu with the latter / watching the sunrise at the border between India and Nepal / sitting next to the mayor of small town council on the bus ride; communicating with hand and feet / the Kathmandu valley is such a gorgeous sight / I got lucky with my hostel; Yakety Yak was a really nice and quiet place to stay; they even had laundry service and a shelf with free books - I read two or three of them because I behaved like a good (home)sick German abroad: bed, Haribo, carbonated water, trashy literature / visiting Bhaktapur, a gorgeous small town in the Kathmandu valley / watching the latest Tarantino movie at the cinema; the tickets were incredibly cheap / walking up the hill to the temple and the monastery, enjoying the incredible view over the surrounding hills; meeting two ladies from Austria, they live close to my old university town; walking to the centre through back alleys, stopping at a rooftop cafe, ordering three drinks at once (liquid diet) / that one jewellery store near the Pokhara bus station - I found some gorgeous brass rings with precious stones for little money / the busy square, the markets / hanging out in the hammock in my hostel in Pokhara, overlooking the lake / watching the skydivers land / the ayurvedic cafe and the other place serving smoothie bowls by the lake - it’s such a fantastic moment when you finally feel hungry again and eat a little solid food after fasting/suffering for a few days / two incredibly weird guys from Latvia and Berlin who provided a nice, mellow ending for my shitty day and even made me survive the mosquito attacks / meeting my travel agent who actually took me out dancing and gave me a ride on his motorcycle to the bus stop; he even gave me some fruit for the ride / By the Way starting to play while waiting for Vietnamese food / hunting down a place that sells semi-precious stone columns in Kathmandu; negotiating with the old lady selling them; getting some brass souvenirs for my friends and family / the view from the airplane - seeing the Himalaya for the first time; I pity people who’ve stopped looking out of windows //   

Coming home. I’ve NEVER felt happier entering my apartment after a trip. Being alone. Truly alone. Silence. Three rooms just for me. My bed. Having all my stuff back. Toiletries! Nice body lotion. My favourite perfume. Going to the supermarket. Unpacking all the jewellery, clothes and knick-knacks I bought. Taking care of my plants.   

Making a huge batch of my favourite ratatouille / pasta sauce.   

Visiting Manu in hospital. Cheering him up a little bit.   

Finally receiving my black and white analogue photos. I loved the shot of Andre looking like he’s being kissed by a dementor. And Lexi looking dead cool at ADBK.   

Pizza party at Grano with Lena. Eating sorbet out of a lemon.   

Riding my bike through the forest on a sunny morning. Stopping to take pictures of the beautiful light, the yellow flowers. Spending too much money at the garden center. Driving home, IKEA bags full of plants.  

 Inventing my signature manicure: a little black dot just above the nailbed.   

Having an evening beer outside at Sofa So Good with Andre.   

Stumbling upon Konsti. The one who ghosted me years ago after a beautiful summer spent kissing in lakes because his therapist had told him so. Well, we talked for a few days, but guess what - he just ghosted me for a second time. Fool me one - shame on you. Fool me twice - shame on me.